


Satiate

by AnonCat



Series: Art of Satiation [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Feeding, Feeding Kink, Food, Food Kink, Hand Feeding, M/M, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 11:06:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1345183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonCat/pseuds/AnonCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Fill for a the Snk Kink Meme] </p><p>Marco is a cook with quite a potent feeding/stuffing fetish. When the adorable-but-far-too-skinny ruffian Jean Kirstein catches his eye, it's only logical that he offer him a job... the payment being a rent-free room and all the food he can eat. And of course the young man readily agrees.</p><p>Both Jean and Marco, however, end up getting quite a bit a more out of this arrangement than they bargained for...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satiate

**Author's Note:**

> http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/8414.html?thread=7104990#cmt7104990 
> 
> I don't write this kink enough, considering it's like... far and away my number one niche kink. <3 
> 
> Gonna make this a series, yeeeaahhhh. >w>

Marco Bodt ran a small restaurant just off Main Street, an independent little place that specialized in baked goods and comfort food.

Jean Kirstein was the down-on-his luck ruffian who was lured in each day by the scent, sitting down in the corner table and ordering a glass of water and a piece of fresh-baked bread.

Marco, a friendly and personable soul who knew each of his customers by name, soon took notice of this pattern. The scruffy young man was undeniably attractive, if a bit disheveled and more than a bit skinny. He also, despite his best efforts to maintain his tough-guy exterior, would soften more and more the longer he sat there, nose raised as he reveled in the scents of the comfort food that Marco cooked and served.

It was only natural that the young freckled cook should take an interest in this very unusual customer of his, and it wasn't long before he started bringing out little extra bits of food to Jean Kirstein's corner table- a leftover spot of soup or a slightly singed muffin or a sandwich another customer had changed their mind about. Each time, the scruffy boy would acknowledge him with an awkwardly murmured thanks, and Marco would feel his heart skip slightly.

It soon became that, whenever Marco was cooking, he fell to imagining that he was cooking for Jean. The scrawny little punk just looked so precious and hungry- rough around the edges, yes, but a shy and awkward sweetheart on the inside, Marco imagined. _I wonder... if he's ever had someone make food especially for him... I wonder if he's ever had a warm, pleasant-smelling place to stay..._ With such thoughts, it was only a matter of time before Marco approached his unusual customer with an unusual proposal.

"Your name is... Jean, right?"

The boy looked up, feigned indifference easy to see through. "Yeah- what of it, Freckles?"

"I'm Marco," the cook told him, smiling warmly. "I have a proposition for you."

Jean raised one eyebrow, admittedly curious. "Hah? A proposition?"

Marco felt his heart flutter. "Yes. I'm looking for a new helper in the kitchen- in return, I'd let you use the spare room upstairs, rent free, and you can have as much food as you'd like."

That last bit got Jean's attention, and his stomach growled suddenly, much to his embarrassment and Marco's flustered arousal. "... As much food as I want?"

The freckled boy nodded. "All you can eat."

After a moment of visible hesitation, Jean nodded. "A... Alright, man. I don't see how I can say no."

\------

Marco couldn't bring himself to task Jean with some of the harder jobs around the restaurant, but the young man turned out to be a surprisingly diligent worker of his own accord. He was gruff and a bit rude to the customers, which would have to be worked on, but he seemed to put his heart and soul into scrubbing the floors and washing the dishes and rinsing the vegetables, rarely needing to be told what to do. Marco worked extra hard, too, cooking considerably more than he knew he would need.

He could hardly wait for the end of the day.

When at last the little restaurant closed its doors, bidding the last customer a warm farewell, Jean had slumped into a booth and was hanging slightly over its back, eyes closed.

"Man, its been a while since I did an honest day's work," he groaned, and Marco smiled slightly, fondly. "Feels pretty good, ya know?"

"Hungry?" the freckled boy asked, and Jean laughed slightly.

"Absolutely _starving_ , man," he groaned, sitting back up and cracking his neck. "So how's this whole 'all I can eat' biz gonna work?"

"Well, how about we start with this?"

Jean looked up in surprise as Marco came up beside the booth, tray in hand. The brunette peered up at what he was holding, his eyes widening as he saw how much food was on it- a huge bowl of pasta smothered in meaty sauce, an even bigger bowl of creamy chicken soup, a virtual mountain of mashed potatoes drowning in gravy, a thick slab of pork ribs, and several massive, buttery rolls. Marco set it down on the table, then slid in across from the other.

"Y-you're gonna join me?" Jean asked tentatively, and Marco shook his head.

"No- I've already eaten."

Jean was drooling slightly, and he swallowed nervously. "Th-then...?"

"This is all for you, my friend, if you want it. I stick to the deals I make." Marco felt excitement fluttering in his core- he couldn't help but wonder how much Jean Kirstein would actually eat, given the chance.

The scruffy brunette's stomach was growling audibly, and he was starting to smile. "Th... thanks, man! I mean... damn, this all looks fabulous...!"

"Well dig in!" Marco urged him, and Jean needed no more encouragement. Picking up his fork, he dove into the pasta with ravenous enthusiasm, moaning slightly at the taste.

"This is delicious, man, _beyond_ delicious...!" he murmured, with his mouth full. Marco watched in fascination as he chewed and swallowed, cheeks bulging as he wolfed the pasta down, managing to get sauce all over his face in the process. The plate was cleared faster than Marco had ever seen a plate cleared, and Jean wiped self-consciously at his mouth with the back of one hand before taking a huge bite of one buttery roll. Moaning and closing his eyes briefly, he finished it in two more massive bites.

"Mm, this food is incredible!" he told Marco, when he paused. "Man, you are gifted!"

Watching the young man eating had gotten Marco a bit more aroused than he might have liked to admit, so he simply shrugged. "I'm glad you like it. Try the soup."

"That's exactly where I was headed next," Jean said, and then did just that. The broth was rich and thick- hardly a broth at all, but more of a cream, laced with huge chunks of chicken and dumplings. It only took a moment for Jean to abandon the spoon in favor of simply tipping the bowl up to his lips. Marco watched as he gulped it down, pausing to chew the more solid bits. His stomach was being slowly stretched by the massive intake of food, but he hadn't noticed that yet. He hadn't noticed the weighty sensation slowly building in his midsection, either.

Sighing happily, he put the bowl down and mopped up what was left of the broth with another roll, devouring it in three bites before turning to the ribs and potatoes. These he ate in-tandem, with first a bite of one and then a bite of the other, slower than he had before, tearing into the saucy meat and taking huge bites of the creamy, dense potatoes. Marco felt himself grow hot as the other boy started to moan more frequently, at the taste and at the weight and warmth of the food in his stomach.

Marco hadn't expected the brunette to finish off three large meals' worth of food without some coaxing, let alone so quickly, so when Jean finally leaned back with a sigh he was more than a bit impressed. The brunette let out a soft belch, seeming embarrassed, and then groaned.

"Aah...! Went a bit overboard..." he murmured, hands on his stomach. His middle was visibly bloated, his shirt stretched out. "But that was so _damn_ good, man...! I can't remember the last time I've eaten like this... I don't think I've ever eaten like this!"

"You look like you could still eat a bit more." Marco wasn't sure why he said it- Jean looked more than full. But he wanted to take him beyond simply full- wanted to keep feeding him until he was moaning with discomfort and pleasure and clutching a much, much larger belly. Jean's eyebrows arched with disbelief.

"Oh?" he chuckled breathlessly. "You think so?" Marco nodded. "Well, bring it on, man. I'm not gonna turn down free food."

Surprised and excited that Jean had agreed so easily, Marco rose and slipped back to the kitchen. He was glad he had been so overenthusiastic in his preparation of food. He had plenty more on hand. So he grabbed a pot roast he had made earlier, along with a loaf of buttery bread. When he returned, he found that Jean had rolled up his shirt and was massaging his bloated stomach slightly. The overfilled organ was pushing out against his skin, stretching it out several inches into a neat little bulge.

"Wow, man... that looks fantastic," he said with a chuckle, when Marco deposited the plates in front of him. "I don't know how much I'll be able to manage, though."

"Give it a try," Marco urged, and Jean raised one eyebrow.

"Don't think you could stop me."

The brunette tucked into the roast enthusiastically, albeit slower than he had before. But soon there was grease dripping down his chin, despite his best efforts, and he was moaning softly with delight, babbling half-coherent compliments about what a fantastic cook Marco was. Said cook, for his part, was riveted. He kept glancing between Jean's smiling face and his growing stomach. His belly was slowly expanding, the incremental differences more obvious than before as he took each huge bite of the rich meat. It was starting to press at the waistband of his pants, and Marco had to fight the urge to reach out and touch it.

Slices of buttery bread between bites of meat only aided the distention. Jean would occasionally cram a whole slice into his mouth, making his cheeks bulge out in the most attractive of ways. Marco swallowed nervously as the brunette ran an eager tongue over his greasy fingers, and then across his lips. Before it seemed possible, the roast- meant to feed at least three -and whole loaf of bread were gone, packed into Jean's now-uncomfortably stuffed stomach. The brunette leaned back again in the booth with a groan, arching his back slightly and his cheeks flushed a pale pink. His stomach, bloated and heavy, was complaining rather loudly.

"Aaah, I feel like I'm gonna burst...!" he exclaimed softly. "This feels fantastic...!"

Marco couldn't take his eyes from that rounded belly- it bulged out in front as well as slightly to either side, pressing down on the waistband of his pants and forcing his shirt to ride up. Both his hands were on it, rubbing gently and rhythmically. It was obviously overfull to the point discomfort, albeit a welcome sort of discomfort. People simply didn't usually eat so much rich food in one sitting. The young freckled boy certainly hadn't seen people stuff themselves to such a point of distention.

But what Marco couldn't begin to explain was that he wanted to see that belly even _bigger_. He wanted to feed Jean _more_.

"I don't suppose you'd have room for dessert?"

Jean shot the cook a disbelieving look. "You've gotta be kidding, man," he groaned, and then closed his eyes. "I'm _so_ stuffed- if I eat anymore, I won't be able to so much as _walk_!"

Marco felt himself grow hot, the pressure in his pants increasing. "I could show you to your new room then, first, and bring dessert to you there."

The brunette chuckled slightly. "You're a weird guy, Marco," he huffed softly, then shook his head ruefully. "I'm not about to turn down dessert, though, if its anywhere near as delicious as the main course. Lead the way."

Feeling a thrill of surprised excitement, Marco stood. Jean was considerably slower in getting up, groaning and holding his protesting stomach with one hand as he used the other to push off of the booth. He paused, upon getting himself upright, to catch his breath, and shuffled after Marco as the freckled boy led the way to his new room. The stairs were a panting, cursing struggle for the over-fed boy, but he managed them with some encouragement from Marco.

Upon reaching his new room- simple but still somewhat plush -Jean collapsed onto the bed with a throaty groan. Marco swallowed nervously as the brunette groped with the button on his pants, undoing it with a sigh of relief.

"Alright," he huffed good-naturedly, "I think that freed up a bit of room. Bring on the dessert, man."

Marco could only nod, somewhat disbelieving that this was really happening- that this gorgeous boy was willingly, borderline enthusiastically, letting himself be stuffed in such a way. He had been as overeager in his preparation of dessert as in the main course, and so when he returned to Jean's room it was with a cake in one hand and two pies in the other. Jean gave him a skeptical look, complete with smirk and raised eyebrows.

"You don't seriously think I can eat all that, do you, Freckles?" he asked, incredulously but playfully.

Marco felt his arousal grow harder and was quite thankful he was wearing an apron. "I think you can."

Jean chuckled, then made a beckoning motion. "Well I'm not getting up, man, so bring it on over. What is that, a chocolate cream pie? Hand it over."

Marco willingly obliged, passing the first of the decadent treats over- a chocolate creme pie with a flaky, buttery crust and a thick layer of fudge at the bottom. When Jean picked up a piece, it almost immediately fell apart in his hand. He didn't, however, seem to mind, licking at he rich cream with an eager tongue and swallowing it in great, messy mouthfuls. Marco felt himself start to fidget as the brunette slowly managed to get chocolate smeared across his face, his breath coming in soft pants as he worked through the pie.

"Got something to wash this down with, man?" he asked, when he paused halfway through the pie. Marco wordlessly handed over the bottle of milk he'd brought, and Jean gave a soft murmur of delight. His stomach responded instantly as he gulped the milk down, swelling out noticeably each time he swallowed. When he had finished it off he gave a groan, setting down the empty bottle and rubbing at his hugely distended belly.

"I have _never_ eaten like this...!" he panted out with a chuckle, then covered his mouth as he belched. "Damn, it feels fantastic...! But it's also really starting to hurt...! I'm just... so full...!"

Marco gave a soft murmur that was half sympathy and half arousal. He couldn't quite keep still, now, rocking gently back and forth. He half expected Jean to call it quits then and there, and he didn't think he would push the issue, but the brunette started in on the pie again without further hesitation, moaning as his belly stretched to accommodate each bite.

Marco watched in amazement as the pie tin was emptied, practically licked clean. Jean groaned as he rolled over slightly, panting as he settled himself halfway on his side, a seemingly more comfortable position, as his momentarily pained expression eased.

"Ahh..." he sighed, then winced slightly and rubbed at his swollen stomach, which had managed to push his t-shirt halfway up over it. Seeming mildly amused, he pulled the pliable cotton up further, revealing the full expanse of his tan skin, stretched to the point that it looked vaguely pink. "Ha...!" he said softly, pausing to play with his swollen belly and then moaning at his own touch. "Would'ja... lookit that..."

Marco didn't need to be told. He couldn't stop looking, his face impossibly hot and his erection throbbing painfully against the seam of his pants. He had known about this unusual fetish of his for some time- it was, indeed, one of the reasons he had chosen his current profession -but never before had he had a fantasy-like scenario playing out right before his eyes. Jean seemed oblivious, his face flushed but from the pleasure of the food, not anything sexual, Marco thought he could safely assume. That, coupled with the fact that they were practically strangers, made the situation impossibly more scandalous for poor, impossibly lucky Marco.

"D... Do y-you...?" he began hesitantly, and Jean gave him an exasperated look through half-lidded eyes.

"Give me the other pie."

Marco held it out as instructed. Shifting with a visible effort, Jean accepted it. It was a sweet, gooey apple pie, and Jean ate it slowly and leisurely, nibbling at the flaky crust and licking at the sticky filling. Soon he had it all over his face and hands. Some had even dripped down onto his shirt, but he didn't seem to notice.

Marco noticed. Marco most definitely noticed.

Slow though it was, Jean made steady progress on the pie, first one piece, then two, then three, and eventually the whole thing had been stuffed into his already straining, overfull belly. He swallowed the last piece with a look of total satisfaction, licking his apple-coated fingers casually and looking back at Marco, who was still riveted. Jean put both hands on his stomach, hardly able to believe the weight and girth of it. His pants had unzipped of their own accord to accommodate its growth, and even so they were uncomfortably tight. His breath, too, was shallow, the room that his lungs usually enjoyed taken up by the massive amount of food he had managed to cram into his stomach.

"Man, I really feel like I'm about to burst," he panted, grinning ruefully. His stomach groaned with strain, as if to back up his words. His skin was tight and tender, and Marco could see it stretching. The boy looked easily nine months pregnant. Moaning softly, he let his head hang back. "Aaah, why does this feel so fantastic? My stomach is so huge and heavy!"

Marco fidgeted, unsure of what to do. Eventually Jean looked up and met his uncertain gaze.

"Your food is way too good, Freckles. I think you could take over the world, if you set your mind to it."

That made Marco laugh, despite the painful arousal he was trying desperately to hide. Then Jean was laughing, too.

"Or maybe I just lack all manner of self-control," he chuckled, then shook his head ruefully. "I definitely don't think I'm gonna be able to eat that cake of yours, delicious as it looks... unless you'd be willing to hand-feed me or something absurd like that, which I definitely doubt."

Marco swallowed nervously, his face tinged pink as he considered it. This really _was_ a fantasy scenario- no, this was a thousand times _better_ than his _best_ fantasy scenario. _Technically…_ he reasoned, _it was Jean who suggested it... he couldn't think it was_ so _weird if I just agreed, right...?_

"I... could do that."

Jean's eyebrows arched. "No way."

Marco nodded. "If... you really want me to... I could do that."

The brunette looked uncertain for the first time, both hands rubbing unconsciously at his uncomfortably full stomach, grumbling and groaning as it worked to digest the massive amount of food packed into it. But he was also salivating at the thought of the cake, dripping chocolate and undoubtedly as superbly made as the rest of the food he had been enjoying. Groaning, he closed his eyes for a moment with a rueful smile.

"Damn, Freckles, why are you doing this to me?" he asked, with a chuckle. "How am I supposed to resist when you're making it so damn easy to indulge?"

Marco swallowed, but couldn't think of how to reply. So Jean just chuckled at his flustered but determined expression, motioning to him and scooting over on the bed.

"Come on, man, before my good sense kicks in."

Wordlessly, Marco heeded his beckoning and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. Jean edged back a bit more, wincing as he shifted. The cook had mysteriously forgotten utensils, so he ended up picking up a piece of the moist, rich cake with his hands.

"Fuck, this is embarrassing," Jean murmured good-naturedly, whether referring to the situation as a whole or the drool starting to drip down his chin. But he stretched his mouth open wider, letting Marco slide the cake in. As soon as he took a bite, he was moaning loudly, eyes closing as gooey chocolate overwhelmed his senses. "Aw man, this is beyond heavenly...!" he groaned, swallowing hurriedly and waiting for another bite. Marco immediately obliged.

About two huge slices into the cake, Jean was moaning throatily with every bite, which drove Marco absolutely wild. Now that he was so close to the brunette, he could hear every swallow, hear every sound made by that delightfully swollen stomach, and see every centimeter it expanded to accommodate the rich, heavy cake. He paused as Jean ran a chocolate-coated tongue over his lips, and had to repeat the motion, several times, as he had only succeeded in smearing the stuff more liberally across his face. His breath was coming in shallow pants, and he had a strained look on his face.

"Man, I don't know if I can do this," he panted, with a breathy chuckle. "This cake is fantastic, but I'm just so damn full...!" He winced, moving awkwardly to try to rub his swollen stomach. It was considerably more difficult than it had been, and he grimaced.

Without thinking it through, Marco reached out and touched Jean's distended belly, kneading at it gently. This elicited a moan from the brunette, and the cook drew back sharply upon realizing what he'd done.

"Nah, no, man, please..." Jean panted, startling him. "Aah... damn, that feels... really good. Don't stop."

Wordlessly, hardly believing his ears, Marco set down the remainder of the cake on his lap and began to rub the other's belly, gently but firmly. Jean sighed with apparent relief as he worked, and Marco felt himself flush hotter and hotter as he ran his hands along the warm skin, tender and straining to hold what it contained. It was round and firm, but still soft and with a slight give when he pushed gently. Jean had closed his eyes and was moaning softly as the other worked.

"Aah...! Jeez, that feels so much better..." he panted, eyes opening halfway. "Can you keep... doing that...? A-and hand me another slice of that cake?"

Disbelieving and painfully, tortuously aroused, Marco did as instructed. Jean moaned thickly around the rich chocolate as he took another leisurely bite, and Marco felt the brunette's stomach swell slightly under his hands as the Jean swallowed. The whole piece vanished slowly, and was followed by a second, which Marco held out without needing to be told. Over half the cake was gone, then, much to the cook's amazement, and he closed his eyes briefly as he focused on massaging the warm, distended belly beneath his hands.

"Think I can finish it?" Jean asked teasingly. Marco felt his insides coil, tight and hot as he thought of the brunette trying.

"I say go for it."

Jean grinned indulgently. "Alright then. You just keep rubbing."

Marco wouldn't have dreamed of stopping.

Every bite of the cake was a visible effort, albeit a pleasurable one. Marco's own breath was coming unsteadily, now, as he squirmed slightly with arousal, feeling as though he was about to come in his pants, mess and embarrassment be damned. The various sounds that Jean was making were just so sweet and sexy, the feel of his swollen belly so lovely against Marco's eager and skilled hands. It rose and fell slightly with every strained breath, and Jean paused to lick the chocolate from his hand as he finished a piece. There was just one left, now.

"Aaah... damn, Marco..." Jean groaned, leaning back slightly. "That feels fantastic... aah... and this cake is fantastic, man. I don't think I could stop now if I wanted to."

That was about all poor Marco could take, but he bit his lip and managed to keep himself under control. "Oh?"

"Oh, indeed," Jean huffed. "Help me out, man?"

Marco felt shivers race up his spine. "'Help...?'"

"Feed me again?"

Marco flushed red, but nodded shakily and picked up the rest of the cake. Still rubbing Jean's swollen stomach with one hand, he leaned forward and held out the slice, letting the brunette eat at his own pace, moaning with each slow bite he took. Slowly the whole piece, the last of the cake, made its way down Jean's throat and into his stuffed, distended belly. Upon finishing it he sighed contentedly, leaning back and simply letting Marco massage him for a moment.

"Man, this feels heavenly..." he moaned, and Marco flushed hotter. His arousal was only growing worse, and worse still, but he would never dream of admitting it to the brunette. _He probably thinks I'm enough of a freak already…_ he thought, and fervently counted his blessings.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Jean glanced down at him. The brunette's face was every bit as flushed as Marco's. "You know what's weird, Freckles?" he asked breathily, and Marco stiffened.

"What?"

Jean chuckled softly and looked away, seeming embarrassed. "I... have got the strangest boner right now."

Marco's face heated impossibly, his blush intensifying, although he never stopped his rubbing, even in his shock. When Jean noticed the cook's expression, his own blush deepened.

"I-I know that's crazy weird..." he stammered, and then cursed with a groan. "Shit, why'd I even...? I mean, what kind of sick bastard..." he laughed nervously, "gets _turned on_ by... by having their stomach so overstuffed that they can hardly even breathe...? A-And then... you-"

He probably would have said more, had he not found something that _wasn’t_ food pressed to his lips. The kiss was brief, chaste, and Marco drew back then, his eyes shining despite the scarlet blush he was still sporting.

"Jean, you are the most beautiful person in the world."

Jean spluttered for a moment, face burning and his capacity for words apparently impaired. "B-but...!" he finally stammered, his hands drifting up as if to ward off Marco's compliment, "I-I... I'm s-so _gross_ f-for wanting this... f-for looking like this, all bloated and-"

Again Marco cut him off, although this time the kiss wasn't quite as short or chaste- placing both his hands on the brunette's distended orb of a stomach, he leaned forward and slid his tongue into the other's chocolatey mouth and kissed him deeply, passionately. The pressure on his overfull stomach making him moan throatily, Jean found himself returning the kiss, despite his lack of understanding.

When Marco finally drew back, leaving the brunette struggling for breath even more than he had been, he drifted down, both his hands gently rubbing and cradling the other's swollen belly. He kissed the tender skin once, twice, and lapped up a spilled droplet of chocolate. Then he looked back up at the squirming, flustered Jean, his smile warm and his eyes shimmering.

"You, Jean, are the most perfect person in the whole world."

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment with stuffing related things/scenarios you might like to see in this setting in the future~! Other characters are fair game, too, or other pairings. <3


End file.
